Chapter 4-- Caring is Creepy
"I never thought you'd be one to watch Court TV too." She states, coming back from the bathroom after changing in to an old pair of shorts and her Harvard sweatshirt and sitting down beside him on the couch. "Greg?" She questions since he didn't respond with words, but only a stare.
"You wear glasses?" He says miming to black plastic framing her brown eyes.
"Yeah, you didn't know that? I'm always afraid they'll get broken at work and with the frames my whole peripheral vision is thrown off."
"Well, I like them whether you do or not."
"And you go for a girl in glasses? I wouldn't have thought such a thing." The one thing she never understood; why was she the one he always asked out for coffee? She had met his last girlfriend. She was blonde, blue -eyed, and beautiful, so why was she the one he wasted his time asking. She was just science geek Sara, how would she ever compare to that.
"I guess we're not all what we may seem." He sighs, focusing on the new episode of Forensic Files, but something is stillbugging him. "How is it that I've known you for five years, and everything I once thought couldn't be more wrong? I start out thinkingyourthis one person, butthen you show me this other person, whom I happen to like ahell of a lot better.ThenI wonder what happened to the old Sara,becauseI still like the old Saratoo...Do you just like messing with my mind?"
"Since it's so easy to do?" She throws Greg a comment that normally would be something he would say, but when the tables are turned all he can do is sit there and angrily glare back towards her.
"That was not nice Sara." He says slowly attempting to sound serious.
"So what do you need to know?"
"Let's see...what is your biggest pet peeve? I mean, I know you have a lot of them, but I want to make my guest feel at home."
"I hate it when people sing along with the radio."
"Ooh, I don't think I can compromise with you there. I think you'll just have to deal with it." He doesn't give her a chance to respond before continuing with his next question. "Would this new nicer Sara have shot me down too? I know you go for older men, not mentioning any names of course, but have you ever once thought about going out for coffee with younger one?" It was mostly jokingly. He knew how much it bugged her when the "old Greg" would constantly ask. In fact, he could bet it was one the top ten on that list of things,but it was like a tradition now.
"Enough with the questions, Greg!"
"One more...I promise."
"What?"
"You don't have anything against dairy products, do you...ice cream, chunky monkey perhaps?"
"I hope you're offering."
Sara wanders down the hallway and through the living room in the middle of the night. On her way to the kitchen, she carefully tiptoes blind past a snoring Greg sprawled out on the couch.
"Ouch!" She hops on one bare foot after stubbing the other on the coffee table in the dark.
She continues on her mission to the big white refrigerator for a midnight snack, feeling the cold tiles underneath her feet. She opens the door letting the light from inside move to the rest of the kitchen. Its contents are quite scarce, since besides tonight, he never did much cooking. She pushes aside the brown bottles and Chinese takeout boxes to the container of leftover spaghetti. She hated to admit it, but he could cook... pasta at least. She reaches to the very back to it when, "Ouch!" She yells for the second time in the last few minutes after a very rude tap on the shoulder. "Greg, what do you think you're doing?" She asks angrily, rubbing the same place in which her head hit metal.
"I should be asking you the same thing; after all, you are raiding my fridge." Greg laughs at Sara's expression. "I didn't mean to scare you. Are you okay?"
"You didn't scare me and I'm just fine by the way. Remember, you did make dinner for me, so this food mine as much as it is yours."
"No...No, really. Just let me see. You hit it pretty hard." Heinsists, grabbing a dish towel and a couple of ice cubes from the freezer.
"No, Greg. I just want to eat. That's why I here in the kitchen in the middle of the night." She moves toward the microwave to warm up the pasta.
"Boy, you eat a lot."That comment is soon followed by a look from Sara that could give them a whole other crime scene. "A big dinner and a big bowl of ice cream...that's more than I can eat after work. Sara, get over here!" He flicks on a small light above the sink. She reluctantly sets the container down and comes back over to him. She flashes him another annoyed look before hopping up on the counter.
She bends her head down to his view. "You happy now?"
"Yes, now hold this there for a bit and you'll be okay."
"What did I say? And people call me the stubborn one." She tries to get down from the counter but his hand on her kneejust won'tallow it.
He lifts her left foot up to his level. "How's your toe, did my stubborn coffee table cause any major damage, because Doctor Greg can check that out too."
"Why don't you stick to crime scene investigating? You're less irritating that way."
"Is that why you can't sleep? The case?"
"No, it's just insomnia. Eating helps me sleep...and reading, but all my entomology textbooks are in storage."
"Well eat, sleep, whatever floats your boat. I'm tired, and if I want to keep on Gil's good side, I shouldn't be falling asleep on the job, so goodnight." He starts to retire to his new residence on the couch. "Oh, and by the way...I like this new, less Super Sara who messes up once in a while. It's less intimidating that way."
"I got the phone records from the Robinson's. She placed two calls to Jenkins' Plumbing and six to Scott Jenkins' home phone number this week, one at 2:30 this afternoon." Sara takes the papers out of her case file to prove it.
"The DNA from the hairs is male, but we need a suspect to compare it, a Mr. Jenkins' perhaps. I did find his prints in the bathroom, but he is a plumber. That"s why he was called to the house…supposedly." Greg informs his co-workers between bites of his lunch in the conference room. "Oh, and the coroner also found the same blue fibers the girl's airway, so one of the towels in the bathroom, I'm guessing, is the murder weapon…in a sense."
"I looked all over that house for the knife that was used on the father, but there are only five knives in the set on the counter. Steak knives don't come in sets of five." Gil mentions. "Weapon of opportunity?"
"Or was it pre-planned and the assailant was familiar with the kitchen…knew where they could find the knives and didn't bother to bring their own?"
"The world may never know?"
"No Greg." His supervisor seems not in the least bit amused by his humor. What a surprise.
"Stay focused…stay serious. I know, I'm working on that. It takes time."