Would You Sleep with Luke Skywalker?
Two weeks after 'Finishing off'
One week before 'Lazy Mornings'
………
Sara leaned up against the counter to give her leverage to reach the filters that Warrick had moved to the top shelf. She grabbed the box, and set about making a fresh pot of coffee.
"Hey, imagine meeting you here." Greg entered the break room, and tossed their files on the table. He ran a hand through his tousled hair, and crossed the room to her side, stooping to inhale the aroma of the fresh grounds in the tin. "Everything is dropped off, and Archie is going to process the audio from the answering machine after he finishes with the porn video from Grissom's case." Greg bent and pressed a kiss to her temple, making her smile. "We finally have a break." He looked terrible, but he had managed a way to make terrible well, sexy.
"I need a vat of this I think. Or 36 hours off." Sara turned, leaning against the counter, considering him. "You look terrible." She screwed her expression into one of worry and concern. He raised a questioning eyebrow at her as he flopped down on the couch against the opposite wall.
"Gee, Sara Jane, we agreed, no foreplay at work." He rubbed his eyes like a child.
"Unfortunately you can wash away the smell of death, but you can't wash away the look of it. Not with lemons, any way."
"Stop already you're turning me on." His deadpan brought a smile to her lips. He leaned back on the couch, and stretched his long legs out before him, crossing his ankles, knitting his fingers together over his stomach. His eyes closed, but she knew he was still awake, a tired smile played on the corners of his mouth.
"D'you think we should say something?" She lowered her voice. He popped one eye open, carefully observing her, sitting on the counter, waiting for the coffee to finish brewing.
"What happened to making out in the layout room and letting them figure it out?" She laughed quietly, leaning her tired frame against the hanging cabinets.
"I'm serious, Greg."
"How about falling asleep together on this couch."
"Greg."
"I'm going to do it, with or without you."
"Gregory."
"In all seriousness, Sara, this lab spreads and fabricates rumors better than a junior high. I would honestly rather not say anything, but that's because I don't want it to interfere with our work, and we are the best team this shift has, Grissom said it himself." Greg close his eyes again, well aware of both Sara's uncertainty, and his own growing fatigue. "We work well together, we have the highest solve rate in the county."
"So coming forth with an evolution in the companionship that we have had would, by employee conduct guidelines, be grounds to split us up. If we split up, one of us will go to swing, and one of us will stay on nights, and the hours that we so fondly fill up with each other's company will slip away to solitude." Sara reasoned as she hopped off the counter, and reached for the mugs, pouring one for Greg and one for herself.
"Solitude. I think it scares me more than Ecklie on the warpath."
"Here." He sat up at her voice, taking the mug of hot coffee she had poured him, and brought to him across the room. She bit her lip as the tips of his fingers grazed hers, and bent to press a light kiss to his hair before retreating back to her perch against the cabinets.
"Thank you." His voice became a whisper, emulating the weariness his body felt. He took a long sip, and leaned back against the couch, mug in his lap. "You need sleep."
"I do not. You're the one that's falling asleep on the couch."
"I love this couch. Excellent support. Years of use to break it in. Perfect for cuddling."
"And the day I want to get fired, I promise we can curl up on that thing."
"Feel like being fired?"
"Not just yet." She smiled in full at him, but he had closed his eyes several minutes ago, even though he was occasionally sipped the steaming coffee in his mug. They sat in silence, at either ends of the break room, for several minutes. "Greg?"
"Mmhmm."
"Our solve rate won't be affected by this, will it?"
"No, I should think not. We are professionals, after all."
"Do you really believe that or are you placating me?"
"Keeping quiet would benefit the city of Las Vegas, because it would keep us together. Keep us together, because we are the poster children of the crime lab. If they split us up, there would be questions." He drained his mug and stood to refill it. "Besides," He came to stand next to her, reaching out for the coffee maker. "I don't want to have to break in another Level 3, I like you bossing me around just fine." She grinned at him, and pressed a kiss to the side of his face.
"Thanks. I like bossing you around." He looked up at her, returning her grin, and accepted the chaste kiss she offered. She hopped back off the counter, and relocated to the table, spreading the files out in front of her, organizing the multitude of documentation. "Predictions on what we'll get back from DNA?" She asked him, looking over the autopsy report from one of their victims.
"Hopefully a match to any one of our three contestants."
"Mia is moving slower, she's backed up."
"And she's four months pregnant."
"You know what that means."
"She's going to have a kid in five months?" Greg pulled a few documents closer to him, scanning their contents.
"We aren't going to have a DNA tech while she's on maternity leave." Sara glanced at him, he had finally come to stand next to her. Greg groaned miserably.
"Grissom's going to pull me isn't he?"
"I overheard him and Ecklie talking about it at the beginning of shift."
"That sucks."
"We need a DNA lab, Greg. And no temp is going to stay that long or do the quality of work we need."
"It still sucks." He flopped into the chair at the table opposite her, and rested his head in his arms like a third grader waiting for recess. She grinned at him as she stood to get more coffee, and he pouted back at her, sleepily sticking out his tongue at her.
"Very mature, Mr. I'm a Big Time CSI and Can't be Bothered with the DNA Lab."
"It's still another four or five months until then. And when have I ever been mature about anything." He closed his eyes, listening to her footfalls leave the counter with the coffee, and come to stand behind him. He grinned lazily as she kissed the side of his head lovingly. "Mmmm not at work, Sara."
"Yeah, ok." She wove her arms around him, and tightened her grip in an embrace. He touched her arm, lowering his head to press a chaste kiss on her forearm. "Get some sleep, Greg, you look like shit." She withdrew her arms from around him, and rubbed his shoulders gently, watching him as every muscle in his body relaxed.
"Woman, those hands are magic."
"Yeah, yeah, just relax, will you." Greg slouched back, into her touch.
"People will see." His voice was just above a whisper.
"We did this before."
"But now I have a guilty conscious."
"A well earned one at that."
"Mmhmm. Speak for yourself, you were the one waking up the neighbors this morning. Ouch." He felt her hand lightly smack the crown of his head. "What?" She was about to reply when Hodges stuck his head in the door.
"Hey. DNA results are in." He handed the report to Sara, and left. Sara flipped through the documents, and paused.
"What?" He stood against her, reading over her shoulder. "Dammit."
"Yeah." He felt her slump against his chest. "I was pulling for the boyfriend."
"My money was on the husband."
"And the winner is the kid. His DNA on the gardening spike."
"I'll call Brass." Greg flipped open his phone and pressed the 8, heading for the door, leaving Sara, who was still looking through the results, and had started to compile it with the other papers in the file. She took a deep breath, drained the rest of her coffee, and followed Greg out of the break room.
……..
Sara stood behind the two-way mirror of the interrogation room, tensely observing Greg's questioning of fifteen year old Jeremy Felkin. Brass stood beside her, obviously not as visibly worried as Sara. He considered her carefully, before speaking softly.
"He's a hell of a CSI, Sara." She smiled distractedly, nodding at his compliment.
"He always had it in him."
"He had a great mentor."
"He's an enthusiastic student." She smiled at Greg, who was adeptly leveling with the teenager, kindly but firmly inquiring as to his actions involving his stepmother's death, and the presence of his DNA on the weapon. "You think he's going to be able to coax a confession out of the kid?" Brass snorted.
"Well, he coaxed you out of your pants a few weeks back didn't he?" Sara turned to Brass, shocked.
"What did you just say?"
"You know," he smiled smugly. "You CSIs think you have everyone fooled. And you do. 'Cept us ancient romantics in PD." Brass turned back to the scene before him, watching Greg talk with his hands, and in the process, make the distraught Jeremy crack a smile, tension instantly easing in his shoulders. Jeremy rubbed his hands over his eyes rigorously, and Greg glanced at the mirror, touching his earlobe. Brass looked to Sara, he had never seen the younger man do that before.
"What was that?"
"Brushing his nose with his hand means the kid is getting emotional, and touching his earlobe means the kid is listening to him, and the tap on his arm means he just needs more time." Brass fully turned away from the mirror and stared disbelieving at Sara. "What?"
"If he could see you, the two of you would be having a conversation around our suspect. And I missed half of that."
"It's become quite effective actually. Secret to our solve rate. Don't spread it around."
"Clever."
"Mmm." Sara narrowed her eyes at the pair before her, and quickly flipped through copies of the photos of Mrs. Feltin's body.
"What?"
"The kid's testimony isn't complying with the injuries on our vic."
"What does he say we should do?"
"I say we detain the husband and the boyfriend a little bit longer, and Greg and I will tackle them."
…………
Seven hours, four interrogations, and two arrests later, Greg Sanders leaned back in the chair at the interrogation table, closing his eyes, and rubbing his face. He slipped the documentation back in order, and closed the file cover.
"You did well." Grissom was standing at the door of the interrogation room.
"Thanks. I thought it would feel better than this though." Greg rested his head on his arms, casting his gaze on his supervisor.
"What would?"
"Putting criminals behind bars. This just feels empty." Grissom smiled at his youngest CSI, and took the seat across from him.
"What did you think it was going to feel like?"
"I don't know, satisfactory. You know, like for once the scrawny science geek gets to stick it to the macho jock bully instead of to another science geek."
"Science is like the force, Greg." Greg lifted his head, and cocked his eyebrow questioningly. Grissom sat back, considering the younger man in front of him.
"How's that?"
"Those who use science for destructive or hurtful purposes, such as your science geek in lock up tend to fall into the hands of the dark side, while those of us who fight their acts of violence and rage are more reminiscent of the Rebel fleet." Greg smiled at this, and propped his head up with a hand.
"That would make you Ben Kenobi?"
"Leaving you as the young Skywalker, who has much to learn." Grissom stood, and ruffled Greg's unruly, scraggly brown hair as he left. "Go home, Greg." The door shut quietly behind him, and Greg shook his head, a smile on his lips. Grissom, the ever-flowing fountain of obscure knowledge, never ceased to amaze him. For someone who looked at human nature as a biological phenomenon, he sure knew how to strike inspiration in the hearts of his employees. He rose to his feet, and gathered the file, finding his way to the locker room. Go home, indeed.
He opened his locker, taking his jacket off the hook, and slipping the file into his bag to finish at home. He smiled at Sara as she breezed through, grabbing her own coat and waiting for him by the door.
…………
Greg dropped his bag and jacket unceremoniously on the dining room table that was already cluttered with paperwork. He made a beeline straight for the kitchen, pulling out mugs for coffee and plates for the pancakes that he was about to make. She followed him into the kitchen, taking out the milk and two eggs, putting them in a small bowl before wrapping her arms around his middle and snuggling into his back affectionately.
"Hey Sara?"
"Mmhmm."
"Would you sleep with Luke Skywalker?"
"Only if he looked like you instead of Mark Hamill." He smiled at the kiss she pressed to his shoulder blade as he poured pancake batter into a skillet. "But I think that would be taking it to a whole new level of kinky I'm not quite ready for yet, however."
"But you would sleep with him?"
Her laughter against his shoulder was enough of an answer for him.
…………..
A/N: still working on ThirdTrimester!Sara, haven't got it quite right. This one was a bit of a rewind, from the first weeks of their relationship. Comes about a week before 'Lazy Mornings.'