Title: California Convention
Rating: R
Disclaimer: All characters belong to CSI and CBS.
A/N: In response to a challenge:
1. Greg and Sara are good friends. Greg has just passed his final competency test and is now a CSI.
2. They are sent to a crime scene/training seminar/class/convention far away. As a result they are together for a week or more - and they have to share a hotel suite.
3. They do a lot of talking and each of them privately begins to examine his/her changing feelings.
4. How do things change when they return home?
Must include: Truth or Dare, chocolate cheesecake, a hula hoop, one bottle of Jim Beam, a black silk thong
Extra credit: the song "To The Moon and Back" by Savage Garden, a tin of Tattoo Goo, a fireplace, flip-flops, a blackout

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"Why does he always send me to these stupid conventions?" Sara Sidle fumed, tossing her suitcase roughly onto the small hotel bed.

Shrugging, Greg Sanders brought in the rest of the luggage and closed the door. "What's this one about?" he asked, handing her their crime kits.

"The latest forensic technology and methods," the brunette said, opening her kit and taking out the brochure that their supervisor had given them before they left.

"Only that for a week?" Greg asked incredulously. He read the paper, setting it down on the bedside table. "At least we're in Cali."

"Home sweet home," muttered Sara sarcastically.

Glancing at her in surprise, the spiky-haired CSI looked at her in curiosity but didn't say anything. Not knowing anything about her past, he just assumed she had had a happy childhood, just like he did in the Golden State.

In the awkward silence, he took the time to look around the hotel room. Along one wall were two queen-sized beds, dressed in dark-red comforters with matching sheets and pillows. With a large television standing on the opposite wall, his gaze turned to the electric-operated fireplace.

Watching as she opened up her bags, he picked up a tin of Tattoo Goo. "What the hell is this?" He turned it over and quirked an eyebrow. "Skincare for tattoos?"

She smirked, and grabbed the metal container from his hands. "Give that back."

Greg grinned. "So where is it, Sar?"

With an innocent smile, Sara's chocolate eyes twinkled. "Where is what?"

"You know."

"No, I don't know."

"C'mon. Where's your tattoo?" he teased.

She shook her head again. "That's for me to know and you to figure out yourself."

Turning around to hang something up in the closet, she missed the shit-eating grin on Greg's face. Who was he to pass an offer like that?