Okay, so this was my first fanfic ever, but I never eally got around to posting it. It's a two-chapter fic, kinda short. I don't know that season it fits into, because Greg acts more like he did when he was in the lab, but he's working out in the field. Hope you like it, but if you don't, please be easy on me.
It was nearly a whole hour before his shift was to start, yet Greg bounded into the break room with a cheesy smile plastered across his face. Now at times this could have been quite normal for him, especially if he had a day off eating a rack of lamb and sleeping in. But in this case, it was quite different.
"Hey, you have a hot date last night, Greggo?" Nick questioned, after his reading of National Geographic was rudely interrupted.
"Not exactly, but I met this girl about a month ago. She's so…so hot!" He starts to sound as if he was back in high school once again…not that he really got anywhere then either.
"Where did you meet her?" He started to laugh at the way he paced the floor in front of the coffee table. He didn't need any of his Blue Hawaiian, he was already plenty awake for the both of them. Maybe now he could convince Greg that he should think about sharing the wealth.
"On the internet…forensics chat room." He winced at how pathetic he had just sounded.
"A chat room? Then how do you know she's hot?"
Greg took a seat on the couch beside Nick to explain. "It's just her mind. I mean, she's funny and smart. She got in to Harvard, Nick! Harvard! You know how good you have to be to get in there? They wouldn't even let me go to school there."
"What ever happened to blonde hair, impossible green eyes and legs that go on forever?"
"No…no, I don't think she's like that. I've…I've got this picture of her in my head. She's like this Natalie Portman kind of girl, you know. The smart man's Britney."
"Since when have you been 'the smart man'?"
"Hey, who went to Stanford? Me, not you." He acknowledged Nick's subtle insult, but then continues his gushing. "And she sounds so cool, you know. She and I work the same schedules, so every night after work we talk for like three hours. She likes Chunky monkey ice cream…and…Oasis. She actually listens to Oasis. Do you know what Oasis is?" He paused for a moment to let him answer.
"Uh…no."
"Exactly. She knows. And for your information, it's a band, a British band circa 1995-ish to…well, they just released a new album last May, even though they used to hate each other. I still don't understand that, but anyway…"
"So you've really grown up there Greggo. Then again you can't exactly analyze her DNA or whatever other creepy science related attempts to find your 'soul mate' like you do with every one else."
"Should I ask her to come to Vegas so we can meet? I mean, I can't really go out to Los Angeles to meet her. Man, you've got to help me here!"
"You've never seen her before. How do you know she's not some old lady or…or a man? How about just a picture?" Grissom entered the room followed by his other three CSIs to hand out assignments and all went silent.
Greg unlocked the door to his apartment after a long night at work trying to wrap up Sara's and his last case. Working out on the field wasn't nearly as mind numbing as being stuck in the lab processing earwax or whatever else someone dropped off and always wanted five minutes ago, and finally having a legitimate reason to talk to Sara wasn't too bad either. But he had to admit he was always exhausted after shift, both physically and mentally.
He took off his jacket and tossed it on to a chair where his emergency change of clothes laid neatly folded in case he got called in on short notice. Then he disappeared back to his bedroom and quickly changes into a pair of pajama pants and an old tee shirt, then planted himself in front of his computer screen, though not before helping himself to a pint of chunky monkey Ben and Jerry's.
He logged on to his instant messenger and scanned down his buddy list. This, of course, isn't a really long list, considering he didn't have much of a social life outside of work, but she was on.
Talking to his mystery woman was always a nice end to a hectic shift, but one can never tell if a person is who they say they are, as Nick had warned. For all he knows, janedoe could have been in fact a senile old lady desperate to find friends outside of the home, but he doubted it.
Lab-rat: How was work today?
Jane-doe: boring
Lab-rat: ditto, but I look forward to my nightly chat
Lab-rat: can I at least know your name?
Jane-doe: you could be some kind of serial killer
Labrat: very funny
Jane-doe: I see this stuff all the time
Lab-rat: how do I know you're not some creepy old man?
Jane-doe: you send your pic, I send mine
Lab-rat: it might crash your computer you know
Jane-doe: I'm coming to Vegas with friends this weekend. Why don't you meet me?
Lab-rat: you won't give your name, but you want me to meet you in person?
Jane-doe: I can trust you
Lab-rat: where?
Jane-doe: hard to get kidnapped in public
Lab-rat: front of the Bellagio fountain 5?
Jane-doe: how will I know who you are?
Lab-rat: "hello, my name is…" stickers?
Lab-rat: I'm kidding
Jane-doe: I like green, wear something green
Lab-rat: lime
Jane-doe: perfect
Lab-rat: w/ stripes?
Lab-rat: polka dots?
Lab-rat: you know, I like hot pink, would you wear pink?
Jane-doe: this Barbie doesn't wear pink
Jane-doe: what…do you wear pink?
Jane-doe: seriously
Lab-rat: it was the 80's
Jane-doe: is red good?
Lab-rat: works for me
Jane-doe: I got to go…work tomorrow
Jane-doe: see you Sat. 5
Lab-rat: exactomundo!
Jane-doe: sweet dreams
Lab-rat: you too
Jane-doe: --has signed off--
Greg got up from the computer's glow and retired to his room. He had stopped for a quick bite to eat on his way home, normally he'd stay up a bit longer and flip though the hundreds of cable channels he'd just gotten, but frankly, he was too tired.
He walked around his bed to pull the black out shades down on the two windows to the right of where he slept. He sat down on the edge of the bed, slipping the old shirt over his head and tossing it on to a pile of clothes in the corner. Whether they were clean clothes or dirty ones, he wasn't so sure. He set the alarm clock perched on the nightstand beside him and finally crawled into the unmade bed, feeling the warm sheets on his bare back.
"I look like…a geek." Greg confessed, staring intently into the mirror as he adjusts his green striped tie. It was to be his first day in court, which was, how he saw it, the only downside to working outside the lab.
"How is it that you spend more time in front of the mirror than any woman I know?" Sara walked up behind him, startling him slightly, He didn't normally talk to himself, or at least that's what he wanted people to assume.
"I'm pretty sure Catherine does." He tried to smooth down his hair from standing on end. "How else do you think she looks like that at her age?"
"I bet she'd just love to hear that one."
"I meant that as a compliment."
"No wonder you have problems with women." She said, getting her forensics vest out of her locker.
"Trust me; I've had my fair share of women." He got defensive, trying to part his hair on the side much like his mother did when he was a young boy.
"How come I've never met any of them before?" He stared into the mirror trying to think of a good answer, but she messed up his hair before walking towards the door. "Exactly…can't you use the same gallon tub of stuff for good not evil?"
After a long Friday surrounded by judges and lawyers, it was finally Saturday. He parked his car in the parking lot near by and walked over toward the fountain where he'd agreed to meet his mystery woman. He'd had worn a striped lime green shirt that buttoned down the front, just as he said he would. He scanned the crowd for a Queen Amidela look a like dressed in red, but had no luck.
"She doesn't own pink…why, every woman has something pink, right…everyone wears red. How am I ever supposed to find her?" He muttered under his breath.
"Greg?" A voice behind him asked.
"Sara?" He turned around to see her leaning against the railing bordering the fountain pool.
"What are you doing here?"
"Looking for my mystery woman."
She laughed. "Can't get a date?"
"No, I already have one."
"Has she seen you?"
"No." He replied sadly. "I met her on the internet. She said she'd meet me here now, but she's late. She's here for the weekend with some friends."
"She lied."
"What do you mean, she will be here." He told her, sounding more like he's convincing himself the same. "Maybe she already is and there are just too many people wearing red around here. But I've got my green on, so at least she can find me."
"I think she already has."
"Where?" He peeked over his shoulder excitedly, trying to see her. "Where is she…is she hot?"
"I don't know…meet your Jane Doe." Sara said, extending her hand for a hand shake.
"No way!" He took another look to see brown haired Sara wearing a red tee shirt and a pair of jeans. "How many times did we talk about work, and how did nothing ever click? I said I was a CSI, but I used to work in a lab and annoy my co-workers all day." She nodded her head in agreement, but now that he had been set free from the lab, he was a lot more tolerable for some reason. "I didn't act much different then than I do at work. Now you on the other hand…you lied to me, you don't work in LA, you're not here on vacation with friends…you don't even have any other friends!"
"It's a chat room, that's what you always do. At least I didn't actually say I looked like Natalie Portman. You just figured that because I said I had brown hair and went to Harvard."
"True, but how…I mean…so many people are on the internet and you are the one I meet. I think I should buy a lottery ticket or go to the Rampart with my luck. At least I can know for sure you're not a serial killer…I think."
"Or an old bald man."
"You know I was going to ask this Jane out for something to eat, but I've already asked you before, and you said no…five times."
"I'd love to."
"Really?" He questioned to check if his ears were working correctly. "The guilt trip works every time." Sara shoved him into the railing slightly, but Greg, of course, made a big deal out of his 'broken arm'.
"Where shall we go?"
"That's your choice my lady."
"You know, we could have gone some where nicer. Ask anyone, I'm not that cheap when it comes to dates." Greg said as she sits down in a booth opposite him in a small diner not far from the lab.
"You said I could pick, so I did. I'm not really one for fancy…and you're calling this is a date?"
"Well, it was going to be, until you showed up."
"You aren't going to say anything to Grissom about this, are you?" Sara pleaded.
"Date, what date?
"Thanks."
"Why? You don't want him to get jealous because you're out with another man?" She didn't look too amused by his comment. "Come on Sara, I know it, we all know it…all of us except you two." His voice suddenly became uncharacteristically serious. "He is alone because he chooses to be that way. If he'd rather spend his nights with his bugs over you, it's not your fault; he's just stupid."
That's the one thing he never understood about Gil. He was so gifted at noticing the overlooked on cases, but it came to his real life, he was oblivious to everything right in front of his face. Greg would only be so lucky to have a girl like Sara, but he never could. It would be too complicated, and Sara, he doubted, ever once thought of him as more that just an annoying friend.
"You're just saying that because I always turn you down."
"No, I'm not, Sara. I'm just stating the truth."
Sara didn't respond, in fact neither of them spoke to the other for the rest of the meal. Sara hardly moved her eyes from her plate. Greg just figured he said something he shouldn't have, what it was, he didn't have the slightest idea. That was just how Sara always was; she got ticked off by the simplest things. He didn't mean to make her angry, he just wanted to help. He really liked Sara, he wanted her to be happy, and as he saw it, forgetting Grissom was the only way that could be.
In reality, she wasn't upset by what Greg had said, more amazed. Other people had tried to make her see the light, but none quite like him. They all would throw her hints or try to set her up with someone else, but nothing ever happened. No one had been so bold or blatantly honest to just come out and say it.
"Well…" Greg said standing up from the table and pulling his wallet from his back pocket. "…I should be getting to work."
"Here's my half of the bill." She handed him a five dollar bill. "And I'll get the tip."
"No…no, it's okay." He threw it back on the table and walks away, leaving Sara alone and completely
confused.
Reviews are greatly appreciated...